More Than a Memory
by Rose in Misery
Summary: AU What if instead of that night at the Emerald City Bar, Meredith and Derek's story had happened years before, in college? An interesting little idea that popped into my head! RR PLEASE!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Her tired hands were making circular repetitive motions while holding the worn cloth against the cool surface of the marble countertop. With a soft sigh she placed the bottle of Windex down and ran shaky fingers though her dark blonde bangs. Her waves had been pulled back into a tight bun, and after a 6-hour shift, strands were beginning to stubbornly make their way out of their prison.

Her small hips involuntarily swayed to _London Calling_ playing softly from the speakers behind the bar as she picked up the cloth once more and repeated her previous actions, carefully cleaning the shimmering surface.

The snow was falling outside making its way down in a wet mess. The beginning of the winter was always unpleasant in terms of the weather, for the temperature was not yet cold enough, leaving the ice that attempted to gather in the ground into a brown muddy slush. Thus weather usually succeeded in putting the students at Dartmouth University in a foul mood that lasted from about early November to mid December.

Regardless, Meredith continued her job, wiping table after table, making sure that the sticky remains of the alcohol consumed by thirsty students were no longer visible on the cool glass tables in the lounge area.

The bar was big compared to the other facilities owned by the student union. It was more of a lounge with three of its walls made of thick glass, and covered with sheer ivory-coloured curtains. The chairs were a deep wine red that made a nice contrast against the cool off-white atmosphere and the sparkling white marble countertop, making the bar a favourite hangout amongst the alumni of the University.

It was on nights like these when the bar closed at two in the morning that Meredith wondered why she held the job at all. Her mother was paying for her education and living expenses, and the only reason she had applied for the job was that she thought the opportunity would give her a break away from the study sessions, caffeine fixes and never ending all-nighters she was forced to pull as a pre-med junior.

When she was finally done with the tables, she headed towards the locker room. Taking off her apron, she slipped on her thin jean jacket and the knitted scarf she had received as a gift from her roommate during Christmas of her freshman year. A vague memory of a pair of blonde girls sitting underneath a large tree in the common room of a freshman dorm building filled her memory as she slammed her locker shut for the night. She made her way towards her boss' office before calling it a night to hand him the keys to the storage room.

"I'm done, Joe."

She knocked on the door, popping her head into the room. It was a modestly decorated room, with a tropical plant that took up more than half of the small space. His friendly smile lit up his face as soon as he saw Meredith at his door.

"Hey there, tips."

Meredith smiled at her nickname. Joe had called that since her first night as a bartender, when she had brought in close to $350.00 in tips all on her own. She was instantly a favourite amongst the customers of the Emerald City Bar.

"I'm going home. I'll see on Monday, okay?"

She offered him a smile and a little wink and walked out as he gratefully thanked her for covering the night shift.

She walked out of the glass doors and breathed in the cold night air, enjoying the difference between the smell of wet snow and the smell inside of the bar, a mixture of beer, bar mix, and hard liquor.

She crossed the street, stepping on puddles with her rain boots as she walked across the football field to take the shortcut to her apartment, lost in her own thoughts about upcoming finals and returning home for Christmas, when she heard rapid footsteps behind her.

Suddenly, a forceful arm grabbed her waist, thick fingers digging into her skin as a hand covered her mouth shut. She fought the urge to scream and her emerald eyes widened in horror as a scratchy low voice ordered her to keep still. Slowly, a knife pulled down her scarf and situated itself right below her chin and the other hand moved to grab her purse.

When her attacker had a firm grip on it, he started to slowly move away, keeping the knife as close to her throat as possible. She took this as her chance and hastily turned around and punched him in the mouth with all the strength her little frame could muster.

She could barely make him out in the moonlight, but she could clearly see that he had dropped her purse and was touching his bottom lip with dirty fingers. When he turned to face her, she could see a small trickle of blood down his chin.

"You bitch."

He yelled angrily, before his large fist connected with her face, knocking her down to the ground. Across the street, the light in the lobby of one of the apartment buildings turned on, casting a glow on the man's face.

"Hello? Is somebody out there?"

A voice spoke in the dark, causing Meredith's attacker to run away, disguised by the darkness the cold winter night offered. Once more, Meredith heard footsteps heading in her direction.

"Are you alright? Here, let me help you."

A kind voice spoke to her as a pair of arms helped her up.

"I'm fine, thank you."

She mumbled incoherently, wondering if her face looked half as bad as it felt. She watched with hazy eyes as her rescuer bent down to gather her purse and turned around with the intention of handing it to her, when the moonlight decided to once again make an appearance, highlighting her features. That's when, to her dismay, she heard her rescuer gasp quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Meredith concentrated hard on keeping her balance as the world around her swayed before her eyes. Before she had time to register what was happening, her rescuer had removed his coat and wrapped it around her shaking shoulders. His hand found its way to the small of her back and he carefully led her away, carrying her purse over his other shoulder.

She was taken across the field to a vintage-looking building with high windows and little balconies. Without a word, she allowed herself to be led up the stairs and into his apartment, where he sat her down on a soft leather couch and removed his coat off her still-shaking shoulders. After throwing it with her purse on the lazy-boy by the couch, he proceeded by carefully removing her jean jacket and setting it by the other things.

He stood up and left her alone for a moment in the darkness, which allowed her finally to get lost in her thoughts; It was only when she sat there that she realized the full extent of the events that had taken place in less than 20 minutes. _She had been held at knifepoint. She had willingly attacked her armed robber. In addition, most importantly... she had lived to tell the tale_. She sighed at the thoughts, willing her heartbeat to slow down as she looked at her surroundings.

The room was simple, yet elegant. She was seated on a large couch that took most of the living room space, with its matching seat off to the right holding her belongings. In the middle stood a short square glass table with a maroon vase as its centrepiece. The walls were painted a rusty orange and decorated with pictures of major cities from all around the world framed in thick black wood. Cream silk curtains covered the high windows that overlooked the football field, and a small metal desk sat by the window furthest to the right, its surface covered with scattered papers, thick books and an open MacBook. The entire apartment was almost flawless.

Meredith wished now more than ever that she could take a better look at the man who had rescued her. In her daze, she had been so focused on what was going on that without thinking, she had allowed herself to be led blindly into a stranger's house.

Soon after a noise was heard, indicating that he was finally coming back into the living room. She didn't dare turn around, in fear that the man who had rescued her would turn out to be worse than the one she had attempted to run away from. Her lose hair was hanging limp across her face, and her sweaty hands were softly shaking with fear. She closed her eyes and heard him coming around and kneeling in front of her.

As soon as his soft warm hands wrapped around her cold ones, her eyes shot open and met a pair of light blue ones filled with concern. She took in his unkempt raven curls and scruffy face, down to the lips that were curved into a kind smile. Finally, Meredith lowered her eyes to her small hands that remained securely tucked inside his much larger ones.

Beside him sat a leather bag full of different sized bottles, band-aids, gauze, and several more medical aids. He took a sanitized cloth and opened his palm to reveal her bruised and bloody knuckles. Carefully, he cleaned the cuts, leaving behind a trail of stinging red and purple flesh. He then proceeded to brush a clear liquid across them, which left the raw flesh exposed but no longer bleeding. He finished off his work by wrapping her hand with a double strip of clean white gauze and stood back to admire his almost perfect job.

Not a word was spoken and while he worked, she simply looked at him and his actions in fascination. Satisfied with the results of the first injury, he looked up and his heart skipped a beat. Despite of the ugly souvenir that the happenings of the night had left on her cheek, she was strikingly beautiful. Her hair, a dark shade of blonde, spilled onto her shoulders in careless waves, and her large emerald eyes looked at him in a way that made him inexplicably want to wrap her in his arms and never allow anything or anyone to hurt her again.

Not taking his eyes off her face, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the extent of her bruised cheek. The attacker had worn rings that had caused a lot more damage than what was originally visible, and his heart ached at the sight of the angry bruising that had begun to stain her ivory skin.

Meredith, in turn, focused her attention on the knuckles that caressed the side of her face, unconsciously leaning into his touch and closing her tired eyes. Not allowing himself to hesitate, he took the disinfectant with his other hand and applied it to her cuts. He made sure to keep his knuckles rubbing slow circles on the good side of her cheek to distract her attention away from the pain, however she didn't even wince when the liquid touched her and he found himself admiring her no longer for her beauty alone, but for her obvious strength.

After cleaning off the dried blood, the cut, which had turned out to be deeper than he thought started bleeding again. He desperately pressed some gauze to it, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. At this, Meredith swallowed an involuntary sob but her eyes watered at the corners. The man seemed to notice, for his hand cupped her cheek and he offered an encouraging smile.

He was about to re-start the process when she put her hand on his to stop him.

"Meredith."

She choked, attempting to return the smile. He made a sound between a sigh and a laugh and squeezed her hand.

"Meredith."

He repeated softly, enjoying how it rolled off his tongue.

"I'm Derek."

She nodded slowly.

"Derek."

He brought the disinfectant to her face once more, wiping away the drying blood and succeeding in making it stop. He then proceeded to clean it with mercurochrome and covered it with a gauze patch. When he was finished, she turned her head to take away her scarf, revealing the collar of her white shirt that seemed to be covered in blood.

Her injuries, it seemed, were far more extensive than either of them had originally thought.


End file.
